


Abomination

by Expectoprongs



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill made a huge mistake and he knows it, Body Horror, Dark, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, Psychological Torture, Sock Opera AU, but it ends alright, not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:59:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2589272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Expectoprongs/pseuds/Expectoprongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was nothing normal about Dipper Pines’ death. He awoke with three jolts of electricity to his chest, screaming, screaming and they couldn’t make him stop until they knocked him out. Grunkle Stan looked at his nephew’s battered (but alive, alive, thank God) body and knew nothing would be the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abomination

**Author's Note:**

> Dark, dark as night. I felt bad writing this, and that's saying something. Not beta-ed.

“You weren’t supposed to come back, kid.”

Dipper Pines was panicking. His breath was catching in his throat and he was panicking. 

“Bill- Bill what? What?” were the only things he could gasp out, brain seemingly caught in a loop. 

_I’m in shock,_ his brain unhelpfully supplied. 

His hand reached out in his new too vibrant, too gray, too everything existence. His whole arm flickered in front of him. Was it even real?

His shuddering fingers brushed up against Bill’s triangle form, and he felt warm and cold, and he tasted thunder on his tongue and lightning in his brain and smelled sulfur. 

The demon’s eye was wide and he floated quickly away from Dipper’s hand. 

“I’m sorry Pine Tree,” and he was gone. 

0O0

Bill felt Dipper’s pathetic child heart give out from all the stress he was putting the prepubescent body under. It thumped too fast, then too slow, and then stopped. It was probably the topple down the stairs that did it, after all, human bodies were very fragile and he felt a few things crack and shift as he landed. He couldn’t inhabit a dead body, it felt like he was trying to move limbs of lead, devoid of life force. So he left, and watched the kid’s body fall like a marionette with cut strings apathetically. 

It was a little anticlimactic. Weren’t Pine Trees supposed to fall with a lot of fanfare? Dipper fell like a ragdoll. There was nothing elegant about his demise. Bill didn’t stay long enough to hear Shooting Star scream, after all, there was no reason to destroy the journal if there was no Pine Tree to read it. He never liked endings, anyhow.

0O0

There was nothing normal about Dipper Pines’ death. He awoke with three jolts of electricity to his chest, screaming, screaming and they couldn’t make him stop until they knocked him out. Grunkle Stan looked at his nephew’s battered (but alive, alive, thank God) body and knew nothing would be the same again. 

0O0

Dipper wished he was dead. Or alive. He wasn’t sure what he was. He put his finger to his wrist and felt for a pulse. It was there. It felt like a lie. 

He had two eyes. One was dead, and one was alive. One was warm chocolate and saw Mabel crying and saw her worrying over him, about how disconnected he was, how he hardly ever slept (because how could he tell when he was awake or asleep, when his whole life was a nightmare?) and how he hardly spoke (his voice sounded flat and devoid of life, he hated it, and no amount of acting could make it sound like it used to). The other eye was the Problem. It was cloudy and looked like there was an oil slick covering it, like someone had poured gasoline in a puddle and it reflected rainbows. But it wasn’t a rainbow. It was a taint. 

It saw things. 

It was driving him crazy. How could he live when one eye was seeing into the living world, and one was stuck in the Mindscape- hazy grayscale and monsters and nightmares always, whether he was asleep or awake. Shadows flickering out of the corner of his eye, and everyone he knew and loved had twisted faces and flickering forms, and were they even real? His alive eye said yes. His dead eye said no. But which could he trust? 

This is what happens when a stupid little boy gets in over his head, and dies with a demon inside of him. 

Bill avoids him. His dead eye scares him, it scares him that Dipper can see him in the Mindscape even when he’s awake, and how nothing he conjures can make him afraid anymore, because he’s already too scared, past his breaking point. He hates hearing Pine Tree beg, his pleas piercing through the Mindscape at all hours, and his soul screaming and screaming.

Why couldn’t Pine Tree have just died? Bill was not a kind being, but he wouldn’t wish what Pine Tree had on anyone. Human minds were not equipped to handle the Mindscape. It would be easier if he had just died like a regular human boy. But nothing about Gravity Falls was normal, and he resented that he wasn’t the strangest it had to offer. 

He wished Dipper would just stop screaming already.

0O0

Dipper was always cold, and no amount of silly, colorful hand knitted sweaters could warm him up. Because Death had grasped him in its cold hands, and had never really let go. It had been a week since he died and he stopped sleeping. Rings underlined his distorted eyes, and he stopped touching people soon after. How could he when he felt so many things, like Mabel’s warmth and sunshine, tasted like red velvet cupcakes and felt like fleece lined leggings, and she was going to die, she was going to die too young too young too you-

He stopped touching people. 

0O0

There was a crash from the bathroom. Mabel, never far from her twin nowadays, sprinted to where the loud noise originated from. Shards of mirror littered the floor, as well as a little bit of blood (but not too much, thank God, thank God, Dipper). Her distorted reflection shone back up at her. The bags under her eyes were beginning to match her sibling’s- not able to get much sleep in case her brother had an episode in the middle of the night, or started screaming or seizing up, or just needed her for anything. 

Dipper sat on the toilet, crying and covering his face with bloody hands. She pried his pale hands from his face, getting her gloves that she had taken to wearing a little bit bloody (Dipper didn’t like to be touched anymore, but he seemed to be more receptive if it wasn’t bare skin contact). Her brother was too thin, pink scratches lined his face where he had dragged his blunt nails into the vulnerable flesh.

“Bro? Dipper, what happened? Are you alright?” Her voice was soft, not judging. She was always patient with him, because it was hard for him to process two realities at the same time. 

“I’m hideous,” the young boy whispered, rubbing at his eyes furiously, trying in vain to scratch the vision of his mangled, bleak form he had seen in the mirror from his brain.

“Aw Dipper,” she said, throat constricting. They were both too young for this, they could have been a hundred years old and been too young to deal with this. “Everything's okay, it’s just the dead eye, you look fine, you’re fine,” she rambled, embracing her broken brother. 

Sometimes, she wondered if it would have been better for him to have stayed dead. It was not a thought a twelve year old should have had to entertain. But when he was just barely clinging to the threads of life as it is, she sometimes had to wonder. 

0O0

Stanford Pines watched Dipper zone out again at the dinner table and pretended not to notice how much more frequent his episodes were getting.

“Kid? Hey kid?” No response. “Dipper?” The boy started.

“Oh sorry Grunkle Stan,” he said in a monotone. Everything about him was dead. The tone was flat. His complexion was unhealthily pale. He didn’t eat, continuously pushing the eggs around the plate.

“You should eat something. You’re too scrawny,” he grunted. He was careful not to seem too worried, because if he was worried then things would officially be out of control. Summer was ending soon, and he didn’t know what to tell the kid’s parents. He debated keeping Dipper here, not knowing how the supernaturally inclined boy would fare outside of a paranormal pocket like Gravity Falls. If it would be better or worse.

“Everything tastes like ash,” Dipper muttered, in a rare burst of chattiness. Stan almost wished the boy had stayed silent. The new piece of information was not comforting. 

“Well, uh, do you want me to make you something else?” But Dipper was already gone. Again. He stared blankly past Grunkle Stan’s head, trembling slightly and dead eye shining malevolently, torturing the young boy. He would have been tempted to remove the damn thing himself if he hadn’t known that Dipper had already tried a few weeks ago in the middle of the night. It had just reappeared as if Dipper hadn’t tried to violently claw it out. The older man couldn’t even find it in himself to blame the kid for trying.

0O0

_Get it out get it out getit out GET IT OUT HELP HELP GETITOUTGETITOUT_

Bill Cipher covered his nonexistent ears and sank down to the ground. One month. Pine Tree was suffering, and the dream demon was suffering along with him. 

“I’M SORRY OKAY?” Bill screamed at the sky. “I DIDN’T KNOW THE STUPID MEAT SACK WOULD GIVE OUT! IT WAS JUST A FEW STAIRS! JUST MAKE IT STOP!” 

The screaming didn’t stop. Bill debated bending time and space just to go back and change things. He couldn’t stand it. The screaming. The poor fucking kid. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was just supposed to pass onto the next life. He wasn’t supposed to come back. Bill had been arrogant, he had meddled with old magic, tampered with one of the sacred souls and killed it. And it had come back an abomination.

He wasn’t even sure if it was possible to go back. But he had to do something.

0O0

Stan Pines was dreaming when he felt a sharp tug. The world faded to gray, and he recognized the familiar setting of the Mindscape. Then the screaming started.

_MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT_

He covered his ears and looked around. “Dipper!” he shouted over the din.

“Not quite.” a tired voice came from his left, and he spun around quickly to find Gravity Fall’s most notorious dream demon. The screaming fell into muffled background noise.

“Cipher, you fucking bastard,” he growled. The demon floated off to the side, eye seemingly focused somewhere else. 

“Yeah, save it Stanford. I already know I royally screwed up.” Stan took a closer look at the demon, and noticed his general lack of enthusiasm. He put two and two together.

“You can hear him.” The awful screaming he could hear- Cipher was hearing it twenty four seven. For more than a month. “Well, it serves you right,” he spat angrily. 

“Time moves very, very slowly in the Mindscape.” The demon gave the impression of sighing, seemingly bored by this predicament. But Stan was a very astute man when he wanted to be, and he could see how Dipper’s tortured cries were wearing down on the demon. 

“You feel bad,” he realized, shocked. “You feel bad for what you did.”

“Of COURSE I do, you insolent meat sack!” Bill roared, turning red. “I have defiled a pure soul. A SACRED soul! You humans and your modern science! You don’t know when to leave well enough alone! And now that poor, stupid kid is being tortured by his own existence. He’s a taint. He should be dead and reality recognizes it. YOU SHOULD HAVE LET HIM DIE.”

“You’re going to blame us?” Stan cried out. “You were the one who possessed him to begin with! You killed him! He was just a kid! He was twelve years old! That’s low, even by demon standards! He hadn’t even reached his majority.”

The fight left the demon, and he shrank back to his normal yellow form. 

“You don’t think I realize that?” he hissed, half heartedly. “I didn’t mean for him to die. It was just a flight of stairs. I didn’t think his stupid little ribs would pierce his lungs. You humans are really frail!” He laughed, and it grated on Stan’s nerves. It went on a little too long to be genuine. 

“You must have dragged me here for some reason,” Stan interrupted the slightly hysterical laugh impatiently. 

“Oh,” Bill said, perking up slightly. “Oh yeah. I wanted to make a deal!”

“Are you kidding me?” Stan barked out a harsh laugh. “No way.”

“No, Stan, hear me out. I know about that little pet project you have going on in your basement.” 

The old man’s eyes widen slightly.

“I _told_ you I was always watching,” the demon sneered. “But don’t worry. I want to help finish it!”

Stan was instantly suspicious. 

“In return for what?"

“I just want to take a quick trip through! No big deal.” 

“Are you crazy! I would never let you through there! I don’t trust you, Cipher, don’t forget that. We’re not suddenly besties now that the kid’s messed up.”

“I know, I know. I just-” he paused as he realized how weak his voice sounded. “I just want to make it stop. I can configure your portal to go back in time, and stop myself from killing the little Pine Tree. It will be like none of this will ever have happened.”

“But we’ll still remember.”

“I will, but you and the kids won’t. Why does it matter anyways? A month isn’t that long, even by your human standards. You would have forgotten eventually.”

Stan doesn’t think he’d ever forget seeing Dipper clawing at his own face, desperately trying to rip the distorted eye out. It had been a bad night.

_Make it stop. Please Bill Bill anyone pleaseplease it hurts it hurts_

Bill shuddered. 

“Tick tock Pines,” he said a little desperately. He held out his hand, letting blue flames engulf it. 

“Fine.” 

The sharp electrifying feeling of making a deal wasn’t a new sensation for Stan, but it never felt any better.

He woke up with a gasp, hand still tingling where he had grasped the demon’s hand. 

He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

0O0

Bill figured he’d visit the little Pine Tree one more time in this doomed timeline before finally using the portal. It would be a suiting end to this month long nightmare. 

He floated up the stairs to the attic that he knew the Pines twins resided in, revelling in the freedom the deal he made with Stanford gave him. He wasn’t restricted to the Mindscape until the deal was terminated, which meant no more endless, soul rending screaming.

The attic was the same as it ever was. The moon shone through the window, illuminating the room in a pale glow. Shooting Star snored peacefully from her side of the room. 

Pine Tree, on the other hand, was still awake, and was staring at a shadow on the wall opposite from his bed. Bill wondered what he was seeing.

“Pine Tree?” Bill called out, and Dipper snapped out of his daze. He turned his dead eye onto the demon’s glowing form, seemingly transfixed.

“I can see you from both eyes,” he said flatly, managing to inject the barest amount of curiosity. “You exist in both realms, at the same time?” he tilted his head and reached out his arm. This time, Bill floated closer and let the kid touch him. Normally, humans phased through his ethereal form unless he was shaking their hands, but Dipper’s unnaturally cold hand rested on Bill’s form. It was an odd feeling, one he wasn’t used to. 

Dipper didn’t react as favorably, and he flinched back. He was staring at his arm with abject horror, and for once Bill was glad he couldn’t read the kid’s thoughts. 

“Are you here to kill me?” and he sounded almost hopeful, and for some reason that bothered the demon more than it should have.

“Nah kid, we all know how well that turned out last time,” he joked. Dipper didn’t react one way or another, seemingly resigned to his fate. 

“Oh, alright.” And that was the end of that. Dipper turned back towards the shadow on the wall and went back to watching it. 

Bill took one last look around the room, and spotted the third journal on the desk next to Dipper’s bed. It was unopened, a thin layer of dust accumulating on the cover. He supposed that the Pines twins had more to worry about than silly adventures and mysteries these days. 

He picked it up, flipping through the familiar pages, even managing to laugh a little at the pages about him. Humans could be so ridiculous. Bill continued towards the end, knowing at least half of the journal was left blank by the author. But where there should have been blank pages, more ink drawings had taken its place. 

One was of Bill’s true form, not the one he used as a joke, but the one that could be most closely described as an eldritch abomination. There were some random sketches of shadows reaching off the wall, taking truly horrific forms, and his great uncle and his twin sister’s mutilated guises, faces twisted and mangled almost beyond recognition. 

The demon snapped the journal shut with a definitive thud and placed it back on Dipper’s desk. Withdrawing from the oppressive room at a breakneck speed, he hastened down to the portal.

Human minds were a frail thing. They were not made to see into the Mindscape, unable to process the things they see there. If the things the little Pine Tree had been seeing were half as bad as the drawings, well, he would be happy to obliterate this doomed timeline from existence. 

“Are you ready?” Stan’s gruff voice echoed around the lab.

“Yup! Let’s get this show on the road!” He rubbed his hands together, his yellow form glowing a little bit brighter in anticipation.

Stan looked a little disturbed, but turned on the portal with a grunt nonetheless. The gateway began to light up and blow things around the room in a truly impressive display. 

“See you on the flip side!” Bill cackled, flying straight into the wormhole. 

There was a feeling like reality was coming apart at the seams (which he sincerely hoped it wasn’t, he liked this reality) before everything went dark.

0O0

“Bill? … um, are you alright?” an awkward prepubescent voice was the first thing he heard as he opened his eye. He looked around, finding himself in a shabby attic filled with puppets, and two chocolate brown, blessedly normal eyes looking at him skeptically.

Ah. He had just made the deal. He was still holding onto Pine Tree’s hand.

“Heh, sorry kid. All knowing demon, you know. Entitled to a little zone out once in a while,” he snickered at Dipper’s confused expression. “So, what were you saying?”

“Um, uh… what puppet are you going to choose anyway?”

“Hmm… eenie, meenie, minie… this one.” And he held up one of Shooting Star’s ridiculous sock puppets, its infernal googly eyes glowing yellow.

“That’s… actually kind of disturbing,” Dipper admitted, edging away from the possessed sock nervously. “So… about that password?”

“Haha, too late kid, the timer already ran out!” Dipper’s eyes grew wide as he turned towards the laptop, which was currently deleting all of the data off its hard drive.

“Wait! That’s so unfair! Fix it!” Dipper cried, running his hands through his hair and trying to type random commands into the interface.

“No can do Pine Tree! That wasn’t part of our deal! In fact-” Bill floated a little closer to the computer and used the sock puppet to pick it up. 

“What are you doing?” the kid shouted, trying to grab the laptop back. Unfortunately, he was no match for Bill’s demonic strength, and the demon easily snatched it away and smashed it against the ground. 

“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening!” Dipper fell to his knees, gathering the useless, shattered pieces of the laptop. 

“Well, it’s been fun! I’ll see you around kid! Big things are coming!” He winked, well, as well as he could with one eye, and popped out of existence, taking his place back in the blissfully silent Mindscape.


End file.
